Sunday, February 15, 2015

There are few things that feel better than receiving a
thoughtful, personal, handwritten note.Love notes are big around here in our home.I started thinking about all of the places
where notes show up and what they mean to me.

Welcome home notes Ava leaves around the house, when we
arrive home from a trip out of town.

A love note written on Ava’s lunch napkin, I leave as a
surprise for her every day.

Notes of thanks I send to the people I appreciate in my
professional life.

Daily detailed notes exchanged between Becky (our nanny) and
me about the kids.I love these notes as
it helps me feel connected to the little things that go on each day when I’m
not around.Everything from what Carson
had for lunch to the smile on his face when he discovered how to use the brakes
on his bike.

The ongoing journal of notes Matt and I have exchanged
between us over the past fourteen years.On our first anniversary of marriage we started a journal together, a
place for us to exchange thoughts of gratitude to one another.

What I love most
is there has never been any rules or expectations, no pressure.Whoever has the journal last is expected to
pass it on when they feel like it.I
love the surprise of a note showing up in the most unlikely place when I least
expect it.

This month, leading up to Valentine’s Day, our family shared
14 days of what we love most. It was fun to learn what is most important to
each of us, right now.

One of the reasons I love sharing notes is that they become
a record, they linger.They tell us the
story of a snapshot in time.Notes are
often read in the private and quiet space of our mind where they can resonate
more deeply than spoken dialogue. A note is something we can remember and
revisit when we really need it.I often
keep the best ones for the times I need them most.

Notes can be the quiet strength we draw from while preparing
to respond.In the midst of challenge,
sometimes rereading notes of the past can bring light to a lost
perspective.

I will continue writing love notes to my kids because if
there is any light I can leave on for them in this world, maybe this is it.

The one thing that you have that nobody else has is
you. Your voice, your mind, your story, your vision.So write and draw and build and play and
dance and live as only you can.

–Neil Gailman

I start every year with a new word, a word that best describes my intentions and hopes for the year in front of me. This year, I choose quiet.

More quiet means recognizing intuition, being awake in the present moment and doing less with more focus. In a place where there is more quiet, there is less worry, noise and distraction.

Anyone who knows me well understands how difficult quiet is for me. My default involves a lot of talking, planning, what-if and worrying. Being still to recognize what quiet looks and feels like is and will be a challenge for me this year.

Last night as I was lying with Carson, I was reminded of what quiet feels like.

Quiet is: Not checking my cell phone for the next distraction An early morning, quiet drive to the gym An early morning cup of coffee before everyone wakes Making time to write Turning the radio off to drive in silence instead Taking the long route home listening to music instead of the TV Walks on the beach Reading Curling up on the couch with a blanket in front of the fire Going for a walk instead of a run Thursday dinner date night with Matt Listening to Ava read Saturday with no agenda Spending time outdoors Watching them play Laying next to them as they fall asleep

In discovery of my word for this year, I tried something new and took time to write a vision statement. This activity involved jotting down simple notes of what I want and need, spending some time writing and reworking before it felt right.

As I spend less time worrying, I create the quiet space in life that allows me to be present and confident that in this moment, I am exactly where I should be.

Vision creates energy. It must be exciting, present tense, and live in our dominant self-conscious. A vision statement is reflective of what we need, a guide that leads us.

I want to remember what it was like getting to
know them. I want to
share the story of my
experience and perspective with them. Leaving a
successful career to
be at home wasn't easy for me. Until I went back
to
work, I needed something else.
During a trying first
year of motherhood, I started
writing to spend more
time focusing on what was good.
I found comfort and company in a lonely space, a voice inside wanting to
be heard. Now, I write to escape from
the busyness of
everyday life. I'm on a quest to learn something
worth teaching.